The Zodiac Collector Page 13

  “Something like that.” Her idea jostles the glacier coating my neurons. I jot down anything and everything that seeps through the cracks, then review what I wrote. It’s junk. I rip out the page and toss it.

  “What’re you doing?” She crawls around the room, picking up the trash and loose balls of paper.

  I huff and open the spellbook again. “Reversal spells are complicated. Involve warping time and erasing peoples’ memories.”

  She leans forward. “Wait. What?”

  “At least, that’s what I read in the book.”

  “We’re not going to travel in time, are we?” She picks up a leftover shard of Castor’s bone and pokes at the pad of her thumb.

  “No.” I can’t get a simple secret spell to work, let alone pull off distorting the time-space continuum.

  “Ouch!” She drops the bone fragment and squeezes her thumb. A drop of blood plunks on the stardust. “Jabbed myself.”

  “Better wash it.”

  Nodding, she paws through her drawer for hand sanitizer and a Band-Aid. The bottle is half-empty and she’s only had it a week. She flips open the lid, drops a dollop the size of Texas into her palm, and sticks her thumb in the goop. Her face scrunches and she sucks air through her teeth. “Then how do we fix it?”

  I run my fingers along the edge of the pages. “Forget the reversal spell. The best way to solve the problem is to ask the Gemini twins permission to speak freely and for protection from Z.”

  Wind howls outside and presses on the window. The house creaks and stutters in reply.

  “Don’t say her name.” Her green eyes flicker with fear.

  “There’s one problem. If Z is doing her own chanting, we might be fighting to use the same power. She’s the Zodiac Collector, after all. Why else would she be so mad at us for invoking the twins?”

  “But we control our sign, right?” She pries open the Band-Aid. After wrapping the bandage around her bleeding finger, she drops to her butt.

  “Yeah, but she’s gathering all the signs’ powers. We’re blocking her from completing her collection.” The words tumble out of my mouth, caught on their own cascade of interlocking chain links. As individual pieces, they were weak and brittle, but together, they wedge us in a predicament somewhere between dire and futile.

  She moans and drops her face into her hands. “This isn’t supposed to be happening. We’re supposed to be studying for SAT, wandering the faire…”

  “Flirting with Evan?”

  She lifts her head. “You’re one to talk. All you can do is make googly eyes with William these days.”

  I slump. “And he’s mad at me right now. It’s her fault. We should chant for her to disappear.”

  “Can we do that?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Grandmother would. Why don’t you want to tell her?”

  Confession time. “Gamma wants me to return the book.”

  “Are you serious?” She’s on her feet and pacing the room in a flash. Her hair bounces with every step, highlighting her agitation. “Why couldn’t you listen to her? Why do you always have to go and do everything on your own?”

  “I know. I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”

  She halts in front of me.

  I stare up at her, twisting my eyebrows in a forgive-me pose.

  She hooks her thumbs through the belt loops and kneels. “We’re in this together. We’ll figure it out. It’s not our fault some old lady is totally crazy.”

  “I don’t deserve a sister like you.”

  “I wish you’d remember that more often.”

  I stick out my pinky finger and she hooks hers with mine. “I need you.”

  “Ditto. Even if you are a witch.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  We giggle. The lights flicker.

  “All right. Let’s do this.” Striking a match, I light the candles as before, calling out the directions and the elements.

  “What about the chant?” Mary asks.

  “Just close your eyes and concentrate. Let me do the talking.”

  I hold out my hands, palms up, and Mary holds her palms down, hovering above mine. The same steadiness that linked us when we stood in a line confronting Zeena courses through me. My skin tingles like a million ants are scurrying along invisible tracks along my hands, arms, and up to my chest. I chant:

  “Castor and Pollux,

  Masters of Gemini,

  Hear our plea.

  Change the magick you’ve done,

  Set our minds and mouths free.

  Castor and Pollux,

  Masters of Gemini,

  Hear our plea,

  Keep us strong and safe from our enemy.

  Castor and Pollux,

  Masters of Gemini,

  Hear our plea,

  Keep Zeena far from our friends and family!”

  “There. All done.” I let go of Mary’s hands and blow out the candles.

  Everything goes dark. Like locked in a coffin kind of dark. The only sounds are my whooshing pulse and my stringy breath. I gasp, sucking on an empty void. My throat burns, thirsting for the cool, blast of refreshing air that doesn’t come.

  “What is that?” Mary’s scream rips into the anti-matter stuffing our room. The anti-matter explodes with a screech. The flutter of a thousand bat wings shudders above us. My hair whips around me, clamps over my face, and tries to suffocate me.

  I dive for my bed and wiggle under the covers, scraping sticky strands from my mouth.

  The dogs bark and scratch at the door. The hinges whine. A deep moan shifts the ceiling. Tiny beaks pick at me through the blankets.

  “Anne, make it stop!” She yanks the covers up and dives under with me. We pant in each other’s faces.

  “I don’t know how.”

  “Can’t you tell the twins?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Try it!” Her breath is hot and heavy with terror.

  “Castor and Pollux, please stop!”

  The magick pummels us with one last round of pecks and halts. Soft light glows through the blanket, and while breathing underneath it reminds me of sucking on a blow dryer, at least I’m getting air into my lungs.

  “Anne. What did we do?”

  “The chant. It must’ve worked.” I hook an arm around her waist. “Castor and Pollux heard us.”

  Shrill laughter scrapes along the walls.

  “Not again,” Mary groans.

  I toss off the covers. “Why are you trying to scare us?”

  The laughter cuts off. A lightning strike flashes and fractures off in too many directions to count. Mini-bolts shoot into the room, through the window, and divide off into four lines, igniting the candles I’d blown out minutes ago. Orbs of yellow light hover over the wicks. It’s not the yellow of ordinary fire. This is brighter. Purer.

  I creep toward a candle like a member of the Scooby gang sneaking up on the masked villain, one agonizing step at a time. Mary tries to pull me away, but I slither from her grasp and reach out to touch the ball of light. My fingers graze the edge of it and it bursts into a firework. Sparks envelop my hand, but they don’t burn. My skin absorbs the bits of light energy and begins to glow.

  “So cool,” I whisper and bring my hand closer to my face.

  “So freaky,” Mary replies.

  I spin around her and touch the next candle with my other hand. The orb bursts like the one before. Now both hands are glowing yellow. I leap to the third candle. Light streaks up my arms, in a jagged pattern, like lightning is traveling along my flesh.

  “What is it?” Mary stares at my transformed limbs, eyes wide.

  “I don’t know, but it’s awesome. Wanna touch it?” I extend my hands.

  “No way.” She leaps on her bed and cowers at the headboard.

  The only light in the room comes from my skin and the plate of stardust at our feet. I bend over to pick it up.

  “I wonder…”

  “W-wonder what?”

  “Gamma told u
s two very important rules. We have to be united for the magick to work better.” I extend one glowing finger. “And we have to give a worthy sacrifice. What is more precious to warriors than blood?” I extend another.

  “Huh?”

  “Cas—”

  She glares at me.

  “The twins were warriors, Mary. When your blood mixed with the stardust, it must have upped the ante. I bet the twins accepted it as a true sacrifice. That’s why they blessed us with this energy.” I fist my hands. A warm buzzing charges my nerve endings. My whole body is electrified. Powerful. “I bet the chant to get rid of Z will work if we try again.”

  “What are you betting on?”

  I wiggle my fingers. “This.”

  She eyes me warily and glances outside. “Does this make you a superhero or something? And you get your power from the weather?”

  I peer outside. It’s so dark I can’t even see the tree in our yard. There’s no moon, no stars, no light anywhere. It’s like the world is gone. “It’s not the weather. It’s our Zodiac sign.”

  She shakes her head and drags a pillow under her chin. “What does this have to do with stars? Aren’t they condensed balls of fusion floating in space a gazillion miles away?”

  “The signs aren’t only connected to the stars. They also govern the elements, and planets, and other stuff.”

  “And other stuff.” She repeats me, doubt seeping into her tone.

  “Yeah.”

  “Why don’t they just appear? Why can’t we see them?”

  “Maybe they’re ethereal beings.”

  “That’s a lot of maybes.”

  “And maybe they’re everywhere, able to cross the entire universe in a blink. It is magick, after all.”

  She sighs in surrender. “So, what do we do now?”

  “What do you mean? We find Z.” I return the candles to their designated place on my side of the bookshelf. The glow is already fading, but the energy remains.

  “Are you crazy? We can’t confront her.”

  “Why not? I’ve got the twins’ power. I can do anything.” I set my spellbook next to the row of candles. It’s too late to return it now. I figured out how to do the magick.

  “You’re not serious.”

  “I’m very serious.” I slip my feet into my red and white polka-dot rain boots and stuff my hair into a baseball cap.

  “You can’t.” Shards of anxiety pulse off her and bounce against my flesh in a high-pitched ping.

  “I need you to be strong or we’ll never beat her.”

  “That’s not fair.” Her face crumbles into despair. The energy fueling me pools around my feet and seeps toward her.

  I retreat to the door. Tiny cracks splinter across the invisible armor surrounding me, and more energy leaks out. We have to go while I’ve still got Gemini power. Before I lose Mary’s support. Before our bond breaks. Frustration burns in my stomach and I clench my fists. “Are you coming with me or not?”

  “Anne, please.”

  “I’m going, with or without you. You don’t want me to face Z alone, do you?” I affix my Gemini pin to my collar for good luck.

  Her lips thin. She shoves her feet into her galoshes and grabs a flashlight.

  We pass the faire gate in ten minutes. I’m soaring on the raw power that is encasing me in a force field of invincibility. Arcs of yellow lick at the grass, trees, even the dirt beneath my feet. Another field strobes around Mary in an Aurora Borealis of amber. Ribbons of light mingle with mine, tarnishing their brightness.

  “I think I can see your aura.”

  She doesn’t answer.

  I walk ahead, determined to confront Zeena head-on and tell her to leave us alone once and for all. She’ll see the power around me and back off. She has to.

  “You’re walking too fast.” Mary scurries to keep up as I march on, slopping through puddles and sliding on wet grass. I’m unstoppable, and Zeena’s going to get a taste of it.

  “Anne, what’s your problem?” Her cold fingers wrap around my wrist.

  Her touch dims the light of my field.

  “Nothing.” I wiggle out of her grip and speed ahead. Sweat slicks my skin. I tug at my collar as if it’ll release the steam pouring off me. Zeena’s words zip through my mind. You’re the fireball. Prone to anger like your mother.

  Maybe it’s the spell. Maybe it’s the power. Maybe it’s Mary’s doubt. Maybe, maybe, maybe… I spin toward Mary. She skids to a halt and stares at me with wide eyes. It’s the same look she gives Mom when she’s ranting. And she thinks Mom is a lunatic.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Her gaze falls to the ground. “I…I’m not. I’m sorry.”

  I flinch at her apology. That’s not what I wanted. I shake my head. “Why are you apologizing?”

  “You seem angry. Is it the magick? Z said it’s hard to control.” Her voice is so soft I barely hear it.

  I step closer, so our noses are inches apart. “Are you saying I can’t handle it?”

  Her gaze cuts to me. The amber strands fork out like snake tongues, cutting into my spinning rings of gold. “No, I’m worried. I don’t want you to get hurt. Stop jumping to conclusions.”

  “You’re draining my energy.” I sprint away from her, heading toward the wooded path. “We have to hurry. There isn’t much time. When we get home you can snark at me all you want.”

  “Wait up!”

  Darkness embraces me with its long, decaying fingers as I continue deeper into the woods. Mary’s calls fade. On my own, I give myself over to the magick. I become the Zodiac energy. A grin stretches across my face. In a few minutes, Zeena and I will face off, and I’ll send that old harpy fleeing to the edge of the universe.

  I trip over an exposed root and I fall, smacking my cheek against a rock. My shield of gold shatters and melts into the ground. The impact doesn’t knock any teeth out of my head, but it sure does jostle the anger out of me. A mind-numbing ache throbs along the left side of my face. I choke on hot, salty, guilty, and bitter tears.

  Zeena’s voice fills my ears. Her rank breath fills my sinuses and sours my stomach. “Tsk, tsk, the Gemini twins left you, Anne. I told you the forces you played with are fickle. You can’t contain the Zodiac power. Come with me and I’ll relieve your burden, but I’ll need both of you. Call to Mary.”

  I roll my gaze toward Zeena. She towers over me, an obelisk of evil. A wide grin distorts her already crusty features. “Castor…Pollux…” I wheeze. A breeze flutters through my hair, then dissipates. Alone, I can’t expect them to share more power with me. I need Mary.

  “So young and foolish to think you can control the twins. Relinquish the Gemini to me, dear Anne, and your pain will end.” She croons.

  I spit out blood-tinged saliva. I bit my tongue when I fell.

  “Anne!” Mary’s footsteps pound into the earth. Their vibration strums through my body.

  “Call the brothers,” I croak.

  “Shush!” Zeena yanks my hair. My head snaps back and I yelp.

  Mary kneels to my side. One hand presses into my back while the other strikes Zeena’s arm. The old woman growls, but lets go of me.

  “Castor and Pollux! Help us!” Mary yells.

  Wind wails through the trees and stirs the loose underbrush and twigs littering the forest floor. Zeena stumbles away from us, carried by the gust.

  “You cannot control the twins. You will need my help in the end!” Her howls graze my ears as she’s lifted into the sky and carried away on an updraft.

  The night stills. I cradle my cheek with a sore palm. Mary helps me stand and brushes me off. “Are you okay?”

  A pathetic squeak pinches out of my throat. “I keep screwing up. I’m sorry.”

  “Never mind.” She peers down the path. “There’s no sign of Z. Did we really send her away?”

  “You did.”

  “Wow.”

  Brittle silence invades the forest and fills the space between us. I’m disconnected from he
r. The solitude of it leaves me raw and shivering.

  “Do you think she’ll stay away?”

  I wait until we emerge from the woods to answer. “No.”

  She slides her hand in mine and squeezes. “We’ll figure something out. Grandmother can help us.”

  I’m not looking forward to that conversation. On the other hand, I have no other option.

  We’re in the eye of the storm, waiting for the back wall of the hurricane to slam us. And the hurricane is Zeena.

  Chapter Fourteen

  We find William in the barn cleaning tack. The joust is over for the day and he’s in plain clothes. Since our green gowns are ruined, Mary and I are dressed in matching fairy costumes, complete with wispy, glittery wings. I tug the floppy tip of my fairy hat, hoping it’ll hide the blue-purple bruise sprawling across my cheek.

  Me, zero.

  Rock, one.

  William catches sight of us and waves a soapy brush. It splashes suds all around him. He drops the brush in a bucket and drapes the bridle he’s working on over a hook. “No fancy dresses?”

  “No. The rain ruined them yesterday.” Mary gives him a haphazard grin. “Is Evan around?”

  Go, Mary! At least someone’s holding onto optimism. I dropped mine somewhere between yesterday and my stunning performance at the whiteboard during math class.

  “Should be dividing the grain.” He juts a thumb behind him. A door partitions off a little room where the grain and hay is stored. It’s open, since Evan’s in there, but it’s closed at night to keep out one of the geldings—he’s an escape artist and knows how to unlatch his stall. Good thing he doesn’t know how to use a key or he’d hit a jackpot and eat himself to death.

  “Thanks.” Mary heads in the direction William just pointed. She pauses to glance at me.

  I raise an eyebrow at her.

  She twists her mouth to the side and tips her head toward William.

  I glare at her.

  She twirls and heads for the grain room. Man, when did she get so grab-life-by-the-proverbial-horns?

  I, on the other hand, am the opposite of take-charginess. I hesitate. Last night really took the vinegar out of me.

  “You okay?” William stands and steps around the bucket, bringing us inches apart.